Page 51 of Judgment Day

“Pretty much. Get ready. I’m about to make you the best peanut butter and jelly sandwich you’ve ever had.”

“I’ll be the judge of that,” Exa told him.

At the counter, Scar started preparing the food. He washed his hands and then got to work.

“Oh, wait,” Exa told him as she hopped off the stool.

He froze and waited for her to come to him. She opened the left kitchen drawer and pulled out something Destruction had gotten her as a housewarming present when Exa first purchased the cottage. The item was still in the wrapper. Exa had never used it.

“What’s that?” he asked as he resumed preparing the sandwiches.

“You’ll see,” Exa replied. Once she had the item out of the wrapper, she strode over and stood behind him. “Squat down a bit,” she instructed.

“Should I be nervous?”

“Of course not.”

“That answer makes me nervous.” He squatted down.

She draped the apron over him. “Turn around.”

He turned around.

“Ugh. I put it on you backward. Let’s try this again.”

“An apron is your surprise?” he asked as she adjusted the apron.

“What did you expect?”

“Something more than an apron.”

“An apron is all you’re getting. Turn back around, so I can tie it up.” Her man did as he was told. She tied the apron. “Now, face me again.”

“Chocolate, at this rate, we’re never going to eat.”

“I know,” she said as she tied the apron. “Now, just turn around one more time.”

He faced her. She came up on her tiptoes and pressed her lips to his. When she stepped back, a grin spread across his face.

“What was that for?” he asked.

“Read the apron.”

Scar glanced down at the apron. “It’s hard to read from this angle. Is that a gun on it?”

“Yup. It says,Kiss The Assassin. You know, instead ofKiss The Chef.”

He laughed. “You never cease to surprise me.”

“I’ve got to keep you on your toes.”

“Give the assassin one more kiss, then go sit down.”

“Yes, sir.” She kissed him again, then returned to her seat.

With her elbow on the island, and her chin propped up on her hand, she watched her man prepare her a sandwich. She had no idea why she was smiling as she watched him. Maybe it was because she liked the way this felt.

If felt so domestic. So normal. So married couple-ish. No one was dying. There was no blood all over the kitchen. There were no severed fingers in the trash. She liked it. This was how life was supposed to be. She wanted this every day.

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